TOW The Art of Seduction
by OldMondlerLover
Summary: My in-canon take on the moment in S9 E9 when Chandler re-entered the apartment after realizing Joey had the night wrong for the Knicks game. Enjoy!


Monica pulled up the handle of Chandler's suitcase and rolled it across the living room toward their bedroom with a little smirk on her face.

Boys would always be boys, she thought as she shook her head. It was cute, in a way, how her husband hadn't wanted to hurt Joey's feelings. It wasn't right that he'd made up an elaborate story about having to stay in Tulsa for the weekend, but his intentions were good. The last thing Chandler would want to do is disappoint his best friend, or her.

So she felt good about ushering them out the door for a boys night out. She missed Chandler terribly when he was in Oklahoma, but she knew Joey missed him, too; and while she wanted her husband all to herself she was willing to share him - sometimes.

She'd just lifted his suitcase up onto their bed preparing to unpack it for him when she heard the front door open and close. Monica frowned as she walked over to the bedroom doorway then smiled when she saw Chandler taking off his leather jacket and hanging it up on the hooks behind their apartment door.

"What's going on?" she asked as a small, inquisitive smile played on her face. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe.

Chandler turned to look at her and gave her his lopsided grin. Her robe had fallen over her shoulder, followed by her long hair as she smiled back at him. Yeah, he thought, they weren't going anywhere tonight.

"Game's tomorrow night," he said, shaking his head a little.

"Oh my God," she replied, exasperated. "Are you serious?"

"Yep," he said, eyeing the two full wine glasses still sitting on the small table to his right then he looked back at her, a teasing grin now on his face. "So… are you still in the mood to clean the apartment?"

She smirked back at him as she undid the belt on her robe. "Hum, you might be able to change my mind."

He nodded and smirked then walked over to pick up both wine glasses that had been left at the table in the kitchen. He took a couple steps back and turned the overhead light switch off with his elbow then began to walk across the dark living room to where she waited in the doorway.

She was almost cast in silhouette, the only light in the whole place now coming from the table lamp in their bedroom.

Monica's heart started to beat a little faster as she watched him come across the room toward her. He had that intense look in his eyes which, ever since London, had never failed to make her knees go weak.

"It's been a while since I practiced the art of seduction," he said with a grin as he handed her a glass of the wine, clinking his glass with hers as they stepped into the bedroom. "And since I've never been very good at it, I need all the practice I can get."

Monica grinned back at him over a sip of her wine, then raised an eyebrow at him as he shut their bedroom door with the back of his heel.

"And just how much practice do you need?" she asked, a tease in her voice. "Especially since I'm pretty much a sure thing."

She smiled up at him as he took a drink of his wine, his eyes smiling back at her.

"Well," he started as he took her wine and set both their glasses on the dresser. Then he moved in front of her, tracing a finger under her robe along her still-covered shoulder. He gently pushed the terrycloth down her arm as her eyes searched his face - he was fixed in concentration, as if he was studying her.

"Joey's right," he said softly, pushing her robe off. Monica shivered briefly as it fell to the floor, but not from the cold. Whenever he looked at her like this she started to tremble. He'd mastered the art of seducing her a very long time ago.

"About what?" she whispered. He grinned at her then as his eyes raked up and down her body, for the first time fully appreciating the lingerie she'd chosen for his homecoming.

"You are way hotter than me," he said, lightly running his fingers up her bare arms.

"I don't know about that," she said, shaking her head slightly as she unzipped his black fleece.

"And because I'm gone you're alone a lot," he said as he shrugged it off.

"Now, watch it there, mister," she said, surprise in her eyes and a slight edge in her otherwise teasing voice. "I might have to slap you again."

He smirked at her and wiggled his eyebrows. "Promise?" he whispered in a husky voice as he pulled his blue t-shirt over his head.

"You're impossible," she smirked back at him, but quickly thereafter bit her lower lip as she ran her fingertips over his chest, a familiar heat rising within her. They'd been apart way too long.

Chandler watched the fire light her eyes as they looked back into his and he shuddered, marveling still that the beautiful woman in front of him was really his wife - and silently thanking God the game was the next night. He gently placed his hands on either side of her face, Monica's hands rising to rest in the crooks of his arms. She closed her eyes and he placed soft kisses on her forehead.

"I never forget I have you waiting here for me," he whispered against her hair.

"Oh, honey," she whispered, peeking into his beautiful blue eyes, "I know that. Sweetie, I would never, ever cheat on you, you _know_ that. You're my husband and I…God, Chandler, I love you so much…I…"

"No, I know that," he said softly, shaking his head as she ran her arms around his back, leaning his forehead to hers. "I just don't want you to think I take you for granted. That I take us for granted."

He leaned down and gently touched his lips to hers. Monica's hands dropped to his hips, hooking into the waistline of his jeans and pulling him closer.

"For the record, you've never made me feel that way," she whispered against his lips. "I just miss you. I think…I think about you all the time."

"Really?" he said, a smile playing on his lips. "What do you think about?"

"I don't know," she said, her whole body suddenly feeling flush as she suddenly realized how often she really did think about her husband. "I don't know if I ever really stop. I mean, something will happen, ya know, in a random place or like…like at the coffee house and I'll turn around to see your reaction and…and I can almost swear you're there and then…"

She trailed off, snuggling into his arms. Chandler sucked in his breath, breathing her in. He understood exactly what she was trying to say. He took her back to Tulsa with him every time he left.

"I dream about you," he whispered after a moment, his hands rubbing slow circles into her shoulder blades as she smiled against his chest.

"Oh, do ya now?" she teased, lifting her face to his with a little grin, which he returned.

"Not just like this, though those are definitely my favorite," he smirked, now running a hand up her thigh and unhooking her stockings, first one then the other, making her already weak knees feel like jelly. "In all kinds of ways at all different times. Sometimes I'm not even asleep…"

She smirked as she unzipped his jeans. He gasped when she wrapped her hand around him.

"I can promise you aren't asleep right now," she breathed, just barely able to get the words out before his lips captured hers, his hands slowly taking off the rest of her ensemble as he pushed them back toward the bed. Without breaking their kiss he shoved his suitcase off to the side. It landed with a thud on the floor, but Monica couldn't have cared less. He'd taken control and all her senses had completely come alive.

Chandler stepped back long enough to pull off the rest of his clothes as his mostly naked wife looked up at him, their eyes locked. She licked her lips as Chandler removed her heels.

She watched him closely as he slowly, reverently pulled off her thigh-high pantyhose, trailing his palm down the back of her leg as he pulled off each stocking, his fingertips teasing the back of her knee as it passed by.

"Chandler…" she breathed, her heart pounding through her ears as she started to squirm. Completely disrobed now, she reached up for him but he shook his head.

"I'm not done yet," he admonished softly.

"Ummm," she murmured with a little smile. "There's nothing left."

But he just shook his head again and gently urged her to turn over onto her stomach, which she did, her body trembling with desire for him.

Chandler knelt on the bed and starting at her heels he gently ran his fingertips up her legs, stopping at her hips. He straddled her, both of them breathing heavily, and leaned forward, brushing her long hair off to the side. Monica bucked her hips back against him as his lips kissed her neck, then moved to bathe her shoulders, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from his wife.

"Are you done yet?" she asked, breathless, the tension in her body feeling like it could break at any moment.

"Not yet," he whispered back, his voice raspy and his breathing ragged.

"Chandler…" she half moaned, half whined, bucking her hips again, feeling him hard against her. "What are you doing?"

"Practicing," he smirked, his hands finding her breasts, his lips finding hers as he pushed his head past her shoulder, twisting to taste her lips, their bodies rocking together.

Their kiss broke as he slipped into her and she gasped. He wrapped his arms around her as he rocked her back on his knees. She threw her head back against his shoulder as his arms tightened around her.

"Consider yourself seduced, my love," he said in a husky whisper as he thrust into her. She smiled at the ceiling, eyes closed and pleasure pulsating through her.

"Practice makes perfect," she breathed as she reached back and pulled his lips to hers.

"So perfect," he whispered before he caught her lips again.

 _ **NOTE: Ahh…this missing scene has been running around in my head for quite a while - and it's been some time since I wrote a one-shot like this. Hope it got your Monday off to a racing start ;)**_


End file.
